


two sides (of the same coin)

by spearbi



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, EDIT 12/12 in order to correspond w a sister fic, Happy ending!!!, Kissing, M/M, and hyunjin is a funeral director with a lotta Bread, christmas. kinda, excessive use of britney spears, hyunjin hurts the car more than the car hurts hyunjin, hyunjin is a rich bitch boy, lots of introspection, seungmin is a funky little cowboy, smoochin, talking about loss/grief, wooj n seungmin r brothers running a wedding catering/planning service
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 03:21:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16946025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spearbi/pseuds/spearbi
Summary: Seungmin plans weddings; Hyunjin plans funerals. One December day, Seungmin hits Hyunjin with his car, setting off a chain of events that neither Seungmin nor Hyunjin could have ever seen coming.





	two sides (of the same coin)

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: seungmin is essentially talking about grief and loss from my perspective, so if it doesn't resonate to your experiences, that's okay
> 
> (ps. i wrote this in a day and a half after getting bad news, so this is fifty percent for you and fifty percent free therapy for me. christmas is hard for a lot of people, and if one of those people happen to be you, i hope you know that you're not alone. you can get through this. love you. )
> 
> ( im on twt @skyracha and tumblr @seungmic ! comments n kudos are always loved )

Nothing brings Seungmin joy more than happy people and cake. Literally nothing. This is his nirvana, and somehow, also his job. He shifts the clipboard from one arm to the other, smiling a little to himself. His in-ear crackles- Jeongin on the line. “Hey, boss, when are the rest of the strawberries getting in? We have more melted chocolate than strawberries right now.” 

Jeongin is twenty-one, and interning at Kim’s Wedding Planning and Catering Company- which Seungmin and his older brother, Woojin, built from scratch, for your information. It’s something Seungmin is unashamedly proud of, and Woojin is the same. “An unbalanced chocolate-to-strawberry ratio is never acceptable,” Seungmin says firmly. “I’ll get right on it. How are those guests looking?” 

Seungmin can almost hear Jeongin’s smile through the line. “Happy and drunk. Just what everyone wants. Still want to go out for dinner after with the rest of us tonight? Chan wants to bring a couple friends.” 

“Provided everything goes well and that our supplier brings in some more berries, totally!” Seungmin affirms, almost skipping past a couple who are waltzing to the Very Nice music that the Very Good band is currently playing. God, he’s a fucking genius. He makes his way to the kitchens, a skip in his step. 

“Cool,” Jeongin says, and leaves to go heckle the newer employees, probably, who are only a few years younger than him and much more skittish. He’s a good worker, and a sweet kid, so Seungmin allows it. 

Ever since he was a child, he’s always wanted to make people happy. Whether it was through kind gestures, or through baking and planning little puppet shows for his dads, Seungmin has always strived to make people smile. So, weddings were the natural route to take, obviously, because it requires planning and an eye for design and the _strength of a thousand men_ to wrangle obnoxious parents and hyper-involved brides and grooms and partners. 

He and Woojin decided one cold winter afternoon about three years ago to create a wedding planning and catering business, when Woojin was twenty-four and Seungmin fresh out of university at twenty. It just made Sense, what with Woojin’s degree in business and Seungmin’s double degree in the culinary arts and accounting. 

Seungmin can bake, order people around, plan out elaborate weddings, and he gets to watch people be happy, which in turn boosts his own happiness level by approximately one-hundred percent.

What do they call it, when everyone walks away happy? Not a win-win- _a non-zero sum game_ , Seungmin recalls triumphantly, pushing open the kitchen doors. He waits a beat or two for his round glasses to de-fog (it’s wet and hot in most kitchens, sadly, ) before stepping inside. 

The kitchen is a bustling mass of company staff and kitchen staff alone, and at the centre of it, much like the eye of a very chaotic storm, is his brother. Kim Woojin is talking brusquely with the head chef, his large hands sweeping through the air just a tad too aggressively. He’s dressed much like Seungmin is: in a two piece black suit, sky blue flower pinned to his lapel. The only difference is that Woojin fills out his suit, because he works out five days a week and drinks protein shakes in the same way Seungmin inhales five packs of ramen in one sitting. Woojin has always been like that: alive, vibrant, talented and able to snap Seungmin’s skinny body like a twig- the list goes on and on. And Seungmin loves his brother; he really does, but sometimes he can’t help but feeling like he’s living in his older brother’s shadow. 

_Well, at least it’s a very nice shadow_ , Seungmin thinks, narrowly avoiding a messy collision with a young girl carrying out a tray of watermelon brie bites. _And at least he’s a good brother._

“Woojin!” He calls, voice not nearly loud enough to reach the ears of an ordinary human being- but then again, Woojin has always been very far from ordinary. The older man turns around, a large (if somewhat strained) grin breaking across his face. “Hey! How does the outside look?” 

“Good,” Seungmin says breathlessly, wiping the condensation from his forehead, “But we need more strawberries for the fountain- though it looks like you already knew that.” He adds, casting a sympathetic look in the direction of the cowering head chef. Woojin shoots him a real smile this time- one that lights up his whole face and makes his eyes smile, too. “Should be here in about fifteen.” The older man checks his watch, rubbing his thumb over the glass face to remove the fog. “There’s only about an hour left, anyways- you wanna just head home? I can handle the rest.” 

Woojin holds up his hand when Seungmin opens his mouth to turn him down. “You’ve been working like crazy these past few months, and I appreciate it, but you actually need a night out once in a while, Seungmin. Go home, go out- I don’t care, but as your older brother I’m telling you that you need to go and act like a normal twenty-something for once your life.” 

“Low blow,” Seungmin mutters, but he knows that Woojin is right. He’s been working really, really, hard lately- he honestly can’t remember the last time he got more than five hours of sleep. He reaches over to flick his brother’s nose. “Fine. But make sure those strawberries get delivered.” The taller man punches him on the shoulder playfully, leaving Seungmin in writhing agony. “Will do. Get going, squirt.” 

“I’m taller than you,” Seungmin pouts, but he knows that that’s not what his brother is talking about. With an indignant huff, he turns on his heels and exits the kitchen, his feet dragging now. _I really am tired_. It’s the deep, aching, knock-you-out-once-you-lie-down tired, the kind of fatigue that stems from being a successful, productive member of society. Seungmin would be lying if he said he didn’t like the feeling a little. Mostly he just hates it, though, because he feels so old and he’s only twenty-three years old. 

The cold, dry December air nearly sucks the breath out of his lungs as he pushes his way out of the golden wedding venue and into the quiet, evening parking lot. There are significantly more cars parked now then there were twelve hours ago, when Seungmin had pulled up to the empty venue in his well loved Honda. It’s only after pulling out of the parking lot and taking the quiet wooded road home that Seungmin allows himself to slide in a CD of Britney Spears Greatest Hits and scream along at the top of his lungs. 

“MY LONELINESS, IT’S KILLING MEEEEEEEEE,” Seungmin screams, gunning it down the empty, darkening road. “ _I must confess, I still believe_ ,” Britney croons, and Seungmin makes a strangled noise of agreement, carefully gelled bangs flopping into his eyes.

“WHEN I’M NOT WITH YOU, I LOSE MY MIIIIIIIIND! GIVE ME A SIIIIIIIIGN!” Seungmin shrieks, snickering a little when his voice cracks. Somebody steps onto the road, and Seungmin in his Britney-induced haze fails to see them until it’s too late. “HIT ME BABY ONE MORE- oh, _fuck_!” Seungmin cries, slamming on the brakes, white knuckles clutching at the steering wheel. He still hits the person, and a sick feeling rises in his stomach at the dull thud. 

The car stops, and Seungmin sits there in the silence, fighting back the urge to vomit. _Did I just hit somebody with my car? Did I just kill someone? Oh god, I’m going to have to go to jail for the rest of my life and eat shitty prison bagels until I die in a padded cell!_

He steels his nerves and gets out of the car, both hands covering his face. “Hello?” He calls out in a tiny, wavering voice. “Are you dead?” He waits with bated breath for a response, and is two seconds away from actually breaking down and calling the police when a voice pipes up next to the bumper of his car. “Ow.” 

“Oh, thank God,” Seungmin says, and steps around the side of his car to kneel next to the person. “Do you think you broke anything?” The stranger lifts their- his head up, wiping irritably at the dirt and slush on his face. 

“No, but you definitely ruined my nine thousand dollar Balenciaga wool coat, so thanks for that.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Seungmin squeaks, helping the other man into a standing position. “I really didn’t see you, it’s dark out and you’re wearing all black- I can pay for the coat, if you want.” (He can’t pay for the coat. He doesn’t have that money, but going into debt is much better than going to jail)

The man sneers at him them, pushing back his thick, glossy black hair back with one scraped palm. “I doubt _you_ could afford that.” His (handsome) gaze rakes his way up and down Seungmin’s body, taking in the worn suit and even more worn brown winter coat. Seungmin flushes with both embarrassment and being noticed by a Very Attractive man- but mostly embarrassment. And a little bit of rage. 

 

“Wow, okay, asshole. Maybe don’t go walking around in the woods at night and people won’t end up hitting you with their cars.” 

The stranger rises a (perfectly sculpted) eyebrow at this, and crosses his arms defensively. “I could press charges, you know. Hitting people with cars is no light offense.” 

Seungmin glares up at him. He’s never met somebody taller than him- he doesn’t like it. “Will you press charges?” He says challengingly, trying to ignore the fear coursing through him. He should have just stayed at work!

The man smiles, showcasing a set of perfect white teeth. “No. I’m feeling _charitable_ today. Just keep your rust bucket on the road.” And with that, he dramatically flaps his soggy black coat and strides off into the woods. 

Seungmin stands there for a long time, staring at the exact spot of woods the strange man disappeared into, before slowly making his way back into his car. He sits down, turns off the CD player, and ugly cries- snot, tears, puffy eyes- the works. Eventually he realizes that the next person driving down the road could hit him, and turns on his lights, pulls down his parking brake, and drives the rest of the way to his apartment as slowly as he possibly can. 

His apartment is dark and cold when he steps through the doorway, but the little fake christmas tree still has the lights on and Seungmin stands in front of it for a little bit, composing himself. _You didn’t kill anyone. You’re not an awful person. You’re a functioning member of society. You can have a shower and go to bed._ And he does- he stands under the hot spray of the showerhead until the water cools, makes a big cup of team and throws on his comfiest sweater before slipping into his bed with a worn paperback romance novel. 

He’s half dozing off, half reading about Bertha and her big, strong man finally reaching their wedding night when his phone goes off. “Nooo,” Seungmin groans into the phone. “I’m sleeping.” 

“No you’re not,” Jeongin snickers, “You’re reading another one of those awful heterosexual garbage books.” 

“Fine,” Seungmin relents, turning the page and wincing as the two heterosexual characters start mating, “I’m reading another one.” 

“I thought you said you were coming out with us tonight,” Jeongin says, voice amused. “Come on- I’ll send Jisung over to pick you up in thirty. It’ll be good for you, Minnie.” Jeongin was- is- Seungmin’s best friend long before he was his employee, and with a heavy sigh Seungmin gives in. “Okay. I’m making Jisung do my makeup, though.” 

Jeongin giggles before disconnecting with a cheery “He says he’s more than happy to do that!” Seungmin yawns and throws his phone at the wall, relishing at the unhappy noise it makes. He manages to pull on something that makes him look like a Young and Wild Adult instead of a Lonely and Cat – Loving Middle- Aged Spinster. _Don’t look too bad, if I do say so myself._ Seungmin makes a face at himself in the mirror and carefully parts his bangs, showing some forehead. He manages to get another few pages into Bertha’s virgin adventures with her new husband before the doorbell rings.

Seungmin perks up like one of Pavlov’s dogs and rushes to the door, throwing it open excitedly. “Jisung!” Han Jisung: Twenty-two, charismatic, a music mixer and producer at one of Seoul’s best companies, and Seungmin’s other best friend. Jisung grins, his newly dyed blonde hair and frost-nipped nose making him look like some kind of angel under Seungmin’s shitty porch light. “Hey, Minnie. You look like ass.” 

“I had a shit day,” Seungmin confesses, ushering the shorter man inside, “But you’re here and you have eyeliner, so that makes it better.” Jisung smiles, eyes soft. He hoists up a massive black makeup bag. “I have more than just eyeliner, babe. I shoved all of Maybelline in here- we’re going to beat your face and get you looking good for all those people in the club.” 

“We’re going to a club?” Seungmin whimpers, eyeing the eyelash curler with barely concealed fear. “I thought we were going out to like... a nice restaurant or something.” Jisung snickers and pulls out a bottle of primer. “You wish. It’s Chan’s turn to pick a place, and he’s bringing at new friend, so apparently clubbing is the best place to make people feel comfortable. Or something.” 

“Or something,” Seungmin echoes, wincing as Jisung carefully applies cold foundation onto his T-zone. Jisung clucks his tongue. “We really need to do something about those eye bags, love. You could fit twins in those.” 

Seungmin just sighs and closes his eyes, putting his fate ( and his face) in his best friend’s very capable hands. 

♡♡♡

District 9 is one of the best clubs in Seoul, according to Google Reviews. It’s modern, chic, and has a dark edge that draws people in like flies to sugar water. Their whole friend group gets in for free, basically, because Changbin does DJ gigs there sometimes, and Minho- well, he's probably one of the best strippers that Seungmin's ever seen. Not that he's seen a whole lot. Both Changbin and Minho are _very_ good at what they do. Jeongin threads his arm through Seungmin’s, and on his other side Jisung does the same. Seungmin allows himself to lean on the both of them as they wait in line outside the club, shivering a little at the cold. 

“Felix, Minho, and Changbin are already inside,” Jeongin announces, thumbing across the surface of his phone, “And Chan is on the way with the fresh meat.” 

“Cool,” Seungmin murmurs absentmindedly, shoving his hand in Jisung’s coat pocket. “Any of you guys met the new friend yet?” Jisung and Jeongin both shake their heads. “Nope,” Jisung says, a little glint in his eye, “But I’m pretty sure he’s more than a friend to Chan.” 

Seungmin frowns, biting at the inside of his cheek. “What? I thought he and Minho were like, a thing?” 

“Dunno,” Jeongin mutters, fishing inside of his wallet for his ID. “Pretty sure it’s an open relationship, though. Minho is pretty chill with that kind of stuff.” 

“Well, whatever floats Chan’s boat,” Seungmin says, and that’s that. The bouncer lets all of them in only after checking Seungmin’s ID (the audacity! He’s the oldest out of all of them!) and the sticky warmth of the club is a welcome relief from the glacial temperatures outside. It’s pretty packed for a Wednesday night- at ten, the club is already a buzzing, throbbing hive of activity. 

“Seungmin!” A low, deep voice calls out, and Seungmin turns in its direction, dragging his best friends along behind him. 

“Felix!” Seungmin says, relieved, and pulls the shorter man into a hug. Felix steps back to take him in, his pretty features surprised. “Wow, dude, you look hot. The way Jeongin was talking about you made me think you’d turned into a zombie.” 

Seungmin grins. “I did, but Jisung can make anything look good.” He doesn’t miss the way Felix looks at the other man: wistful and hungry and a little hopeless. He’s been dancing around Jisung ever since they met, and Seungmin wants them to just get together already. “Hey, Jisung,” Felix says softly, and Seungmin thinks he sees Jisung flush. “Hi, ‘Lix,” The blonde replies shyly, and Jeongin rolls his eyes. 

Felix leads them to a circular table at the back, where there’s significantly less people milling around. Jisung whoops loudly. “Minho! Changbin! Still kicking?” 

“Sadly,” Minho calls back, nursing a large shot glass morosely. Changbin, round glasses on, pats the other brunette man’s’ shoulder consolingly. “Damn,” Jeongin says, sliding next to Minho, “What on earth happened to you?” 

“The love of my life is in love with another man!” Minho wails, and knocks back the rest of the alcohol in the shot glass. 

_Well_ , Seungmin thinks, exchanging an alarmed glance with Jeongin, _it’s definitely not an open relationship to Minho._

“Communication is important, dude.” Jisung whispers, ruffling Minho’s hair. The older man sniffs, motioning at a passing waiter for another drink. “I know, but he was just so... casual about it? He was like, ‘Yeah, this handsome emo man is going to be staying here for a while. You’re fine with it, right?’ and I was like, yeah, sure, because I’m not going to be that guy, you know?” 

“Did you actually ask Chan who this stranger is?” Seungmin asks, eyebrow quirked. Minho’s mouth dips into a childish pout. “No... but I just know he’s moving on from me. I’m too young for him.” 

“You’re twenty-four, and he’s twenty-six. Don’t overreact- I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” Seungmin gently pries the shot glass out of Minho’s hands. “Just.. talk to him when he gets here, okay?” 

“’Kay,” Minho mumbles, staring over at Seungmin with awe in his expression, “You’re really like... a love guru. Wedding planner, relationship expert... you’re the total package.” _And yet men still run in the opposite direction from me_ , Seungmin thinks bitterly. He manages to choke out a simple _thank you_ in Minho’s direction, though, before ordering his own drink. 

Seungmin has almost reached that pleasantly buzzed state when Changbin says something that makes his heart stop. “Wow, Chan says this friend of his got hit by a car today. Only got a little scraped up, though.” 

“What?” Seungmin breathes, the room swimming around him. _There’s no way. Please, god, don’t let it be him_. Jeongin perks up, waving at someone behind Seungmin’s head. “Oh, speak of the devil- Chan! Over here!” 

Seungmin remains perfectly still, his survival instincts taking over. _Stay still. If you don’t move, they won’t see you. Maybe crawl underneath the table and hide?_ “Hey,” Chan says from behind him, sounding slightly out of breath. “Sorry we were so late. Hyunjin- he’s my cousin- had to get checked out at the hospital.” 

( “Oh, thank fucking god,” Minho says faintly, looking incredibly relieved, and Changbin shoots him a thumbs up. )

“It’s fine,” says a familiar voice, less pissed off this time, and Seungmin shoves his fist into his mouth and screams silently. Jisung shoots him an odd look. “That seat open?” 

Jeongin pats the seat next to him, which, coincidentally, is right across the table from Seungmin. “Nope! Take a seat- it’s nice to meet you, Hyunjin!” 

“And you as well,” Hyunjin says quietly, sliding into the booth- and yeah, that’s the same asshole Seungmin hit with his car, just a little less wet and wearing a touch of eyeliner. His clothes are still black, but they’re very, very tight. Seungmin lets out a small, strangled noise, and Hyunjin looks over. Seungmin watches the recognition register in the other man’s eyes, watches his expression harden. “Oh. It’s _you_. This should be fun.” 

“Shut up, asswipe,” Seungmin says with a tad more venom than he really intends, “I don’t like this situation any more than you do.” The table falls strangely silent, the tension in the air palpable. “So,” Chan says slowly, taking a seat next to Minho, “I’m guessing that you’ve met Seungmin before?” 

Hyunjin looks down his (perfectly sculpted) nose at Seungmin, almost as if Seungmin is a pile of dog shit that he’s just stepped into. “This is the pleb that nearly killed me with his car.” 

Chan snorts out a mouthful of craft beer, eyes bugging out of his head. “Seungmin, that was you?” 

“You were dressed in all black and walking on the road like some kind of goth phantom,” Seungmin hisses, gaze locked with Hyunjin’s, “and then you called Sharon a _rust bucket_!” 

The corners of Hyunjin’s mouth twitch. “Who’s Sharon?” 

Felix shakes his head slowly, expression horrorstruck. “You called Sharon a rust bucket?” 

“It’s Seungmin’s car,” Jisung explains nervously to a very bemused Hyunjin. “He’s very protective of her.” Seungmin glares at Hyunjin, his fists clenched underneath the table. The nerve of this smug, rich fucker, thinking that he can waltz right into his friend group and charm them all! He thinks that he can insult Sharon and get away with it!

“I don’t think that poor thing even deserves to be called a car,” Hyunjin says honestly, eliciting several horrified gasps from the table. Seungmin downs a shot aggressively, maintaining eye contact with the taller man the whole time.

“Where was your car, huh? Could have avoided this whole thing if you’d drove instead of staggering around the woods like some sort of lunatic.”

Hyunjin stiffens, a dangerous glint entering his eyes. “I was walking home to my 1.5 millon dollar penthouse, you fool.” 

“His work is super close to his house,” Chan supplies helpfully, before taking a sip of wine. 

“What do you do?” Jisung asks Hyunjin, voice borderline hysterical. Hyunjin smiles. “I run a funeral home. Catering, planning- I do it all. A very busy job, as you might imagine- always new clients.” 

The table falls silent for a second time. “Holy fuck,” Minho whispers, looking between Seungmin and Hyunjin. “That is absolutely fucking nuts.” Jeongin nods empathetically, his eyes wide. Changbin has dissolved into a mess of silent laughter, and Felix looks entirely amused at the whole situation. 

“What’s so funny?” Hyunjin asks, a shadow of confusion crossing his face. Jisung manages to explain between bouts of frenzied laughter. “Seungmin owns a wedding business. Catering, planning- he does it all. He has lots of clients, too.” 

Seungmin snarls wordlessly as Hyunjin slowly looks back over at him, a smirk pulling at his (perfect) lips. “That is funny.” 

“Perish,” Seungmin croaks, and that is all he says for the rest of the night, choosing to nurse a bottle of vodka in stony silence as the rest of his friends laugh and dance and eat with the enemy. Hwang Hyunjin really is the devil, a wolf in sheep’s clothing- he laughs with Seungmin’s friends and smiles and looks pretty, but every once in a while he’ll look over at Seungmin and preen smugly at him, and it makes Seungmin’s blood _boil_. 

_Of course he runs a funeral home_ , Seungmin thinks nastily, drawing a frowny face in the spilled beer on the table. _He’s mean and boring enough to pull it all off. Probably talks more to dead bodies than he does to living people_. He looks up as Chan plops down next to him, pushing his sweaty hair back from his forehead. “Hey, man,” Chan says quietly, “If I’d known it was you I wouldn’t have brought Hyunjin tonight. You okay?” 

Seungmin frowns. _I don’t want sympathy. I want revenge_. “It’s fine. I almost hit him, anyways, and I won’t have to see him ever again after tonight.” He looks up, curious. “Why is he staying with you and Minho if he’s so rich?” 

Chan waves a hand vaguely. “Oh, you know. Stuff.” _Suspicious_ , Seungmin thinks, but decides not to press any further on the matter after seeing the pinched look on the older man’s face. Chan steals his bottle and takes a quick swig before speaking again. “Look... I know the two of you didn’t get off to a great start- ( an understatement, in Seungmin’s opinion) – but Hyunjin is actually a really great guy and you should give him a chance.” 

“Maybe,” Seungmin says, which means _maybe over my cold dead body to those who truly know him_. Sadly, Chan is a newer friend, so he just smiles cheerfully and claps Seungmin on the shoulder, pausing to take one final sip of his beer before strutting back to the dance floor. 

Since all of his friends are off dancing with the devil, Seungmin ends up venting to a very drunk but very supportive couple who are also sitting off to the side. “A funeral director? Sounds creepy to me,” one of the girls says thoughtfully, gently petting her girlfriend’s hair. “I don’t know, it could be hot,” the other one says blearily, reaching up to pinch Seungmin’s cheek. “Maybe he’s a vampire who can give you the gift of immortality.” 

“I doubt it,” Seungmin says, carefully prying the girl’s beautifully manicured fingers off of his face, “But that would be nice.” 

“I can’t give you the gift of immortality, but I could get you a new car,” Hyunjin says, flouncing past him. “However, I don’t really do charity.” Seungmin squeezes his glass so hard that it cracks. 

“I take back what I said about it being hot,” the girl says, waving a middle finger at Hyunjin’s back. “He’s an asshole.” 

“God, tell me about it,” Seungmin says, and that’s really the last coherent thing he remembers saying for the rest of the night. After that, he only experiences the world through flashes of neon lights and blurry figures- will only recall the smell of smoke, sweat, and the bitter taste of alcohol and frustration. 

♡♡♡

He wakes up the next morning with what has to be the Worst Hangover Ever. It curls around behind his eyes and nestles at the base of his neck, radiating waves of pain outwards. “Oh my god,” Seungmin groans, feeling around on the desk adjacent to his bed for his phone. “I’m dying.” He fumbles with his phone before holding it up. There’s a little sticky note on the back, and in Jisung’s looping scrawl it reads: **took u home. drunk off ur ass. hyunjin says he hopes u have life insurance if u plan to keep driving ur car.**

 _That snake bastard_! Seungmin crumples the sticky note in his hand, attempting a scowl. It hurts too much, so Seungmin settles for an irritated frown instead. _Oh well. I’ll just stay away from Chan and Minho’s apartment for the next little while_. Thank god it’s a Thursday- the only day of the week set aside for consultation and appointment planning for the business, which means a lot of talking on the phone and in person but no actual weddings. Seungmin briefly flirts with the idea of staying home sick and letting Woojin shoulder the workload himself, but his overwhelming sense of guilt (and nausea) propels him out of bed and into the bathroom. 

After dry-heaving a few times and then showering, Seungmin manages to dress himself in passable work clothing and fix himself a hangover cure before stumbling out the front door and driving the five minutes to the office. 

Woojin takes one look at him and whitens. “You need to go back home and rest. What happened to you? You look awful!” Seungmin just glares at him and plops into the leather spinny chair next to his brother. “No. I’m fine. Just had a little run-in with the devil last night.” 

His brother raises an eyebrow. “District 9?” 

Seungmin nods. “Yeah. We all went out and I ran into a real asshole.” He cleverly omits the bit about nearly killing the said asshole with his car- does Woojin really need to know that? No. Woojin sighs and rests the back of his hand on Seungmin’s forehead, checking for a fever. Seungmin closes his eyes and leans into the touch, feeling a little sad. He’s a little sad, because as much as he craves physical touch, he can’t seem to work up the courage to ask for it from his friends and family. 

It’s one of his ‘love languages’, according to Buzzfeed, and he thinks they might be right. He’s not shy, not really- he’s more of an over analyzer, always worrying if he’s stepping outside of social norms and asking for too much or too little of people, and introducing physical affection to that would be entirely too overwhelming. Maybe he’s just a coward. 

For somebody who plans weddings and is constantly surrounded by people in love, he sure is lacking in it himself. Exhaling softly through his nose, he pulls away from Woojin and raps a knuckle on the desk. “Moving on. What do we have planned for today?” Woojin hums and flips open his laptop, eyes scanning the screen. “A couple wanting a consultation at 10:30, a girl wanting to go over flower bouquets at 12:00, and an older lady looking to set up a venue for her grandson and his partner at 12:45.” 

“That’s not too bad,” Seungmin says firmly, ignoring the way his head spins when he stands up. “I’ll stick around. I’m going to go get coffee- you want some?” Woojin nods and Seungmin makes his way out of the room, keeping one hand on the wall to keep him steady as he walks to the lobby. His secretary, Karen, gives him a sympathetic look as he fumbles with the coffee mugs. “Rough night?” 

“Everybody keeps saying that.” Seungmin whines, yelping as a bit of hot liquid splashes over the mug and onto his thumb. “Is it really that obvious?” Karen adjusts her tortoiseshell glasses primly. “You look like someone lit you on fire, doused you in cold water, and then ran you over in their truck.” 

Seungmin bites back the urge to hit his head against the wall. “A bit too honest there, Karen.” 

“Sorry.” Karen says, not looking regretful in the least. “You did ask, though.” 

Seungmin sighs. “I suppose I did.” With a nod in her direction, he turns and staggers back to his office, a coffee mug in each hand. Woojin accepts his mug with a soft smile, and the two of them get to work, pouring over spreadsheets and bills and information. The 10:30 couple are kind enough, if a bit uptight, but Seungmin flips on his Special Smile (crafted from years of working retail) and manages to keep things sailing smoothly along. 

The young girl who comes in at 12:00 is the classic definition of a bridezilla: twitchy, commanding, and probably note entirely in her right might. Seungmin lets Woojin handle that one, and after a good half hour of persuasion, the girl leaves with something that almost looks like a smile on her face. 

“One more,” Woojin says, yawning into his hand, “And then you’re going back home to get some sleep- and some soup. Even if I have to spoon feed it to you.” 

“Woojiiiiin,” Seungmin whines, resting his head on their shared desk, “I told you, I’m fine. If I’m not fine, that means that I’m weak and then natural selection will take me out.” Woojin pauses in ruffling through his folder of receipts, expression slightly amused. “You know, sometimes you alarm me, Min.” 

Seungmin sighs. His head is so heavy. “Sometimes I alarm myself.” 

They both straighten up as a quiet knock breaks the semi-silence. “Come in,” Woojin calls, his voice warm. An elderly woman slowly shuffles into the room, her grey hair tucked up neatly into a bun at the nape of her neck. _She looks kind_ , Seungmin thinks, instantly taking a liking to this small person. “Hello,” Seungmin says softly, “You must be Li Mei.” The woman stiffly takes a seat across from the two brothers, a little smile on her face. “I am. It’s very nice to meet the two of you- I heard you plan the best weddings in all of Seoul.” 

Woojin rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “I don’t know if we’re the best-,” Li Mei waves her elegantly manicured hands dismissively. “No need to be humble. I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.” She looks over at Seungmin then, something a little sad in her eyes. “I hope you don’t think my request is too strange.” 

“We’ve had a lot of strange requests,” Seungmin says honestly, leaning in towards the older woman. “I doubt we’ll be too alarmed by whatever you say.” Li Mei takes a long, deep breath before speaking. “I would like to plan a wedding for the first of January for my grandson and his fiancé.” 

Woojin perks up. “That’s no problem at all!” 

“My grandson’s fiancé is a man,” Li Mei murmurs, looking over at the two brothers for any sign of confrontation, “And he also passed away almost a month ago due to an untimely car crash.” 

_Ah. So it is a strange request_. Not the boyfriend part, obviously- half of Seungmin’s friends are dating each other, and he’s into both men and women so it’s definitely not an issue, but the dead fiancé bit is a little unnerving. 

Woojin clears his throat. “Would the body be present at the venue? Because I’m not sure how many wedding halls would allow that.” 

Li Mei shakes her head. “No. We would use a paper effigy instead.” She makes to stand up. “I know that this is rather unconventional- perhaps I should just let myself out.” 

“No!” Seungmin blurts, stiffening in his chair, and both Woojin and Li Mei turn to look at him. He flushes. “I mean; we can do it. It’s still a wedding, right? And I’m sure it would make your grandson very happy.” Woojin nods in agreement. 

Li Mei sits back down slowly, a little smile growing on her face. “Thank you, Mr. Kim.” 

“It’s the least we can do,” Seungmin says gently. “Did you have any venue in mind, or any extra additions to any of the plans we offer?” Li Mei hums, glancing out the small window at the bustling city streets below. “I have one in mind, yes- and I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind doing this in partnership with my grandnephew? He runs a funeral home, you see, and as he’s well acquainted with our family customs and practices I felt as though he might be useful in lending a hand.” 

“That’s actually quite a good idea,” Woojin says, not noticing Seungmin crumble apart beside him. “We’ve never done anything quite like this before, so it would be a nice touch to have someone who knows how to set things up.” 

“What’s your grandnephew’s name?” Seungmin croaks out, voice tight, and Li Mei looks up at him, confused. “Do you know him? His name is Hyunjin. Hwang Hyunjin.” 

♡♡♡

“Why would god do this to me?” Seungmin screeches into his phone, pacing back and forth in the cramped restroom of the small café he, Woojin, and Hyunjin all agreed to meet up at to discuss planning details and budgeting. Across the line, Jisung sighs, at a loss for words. “I really don’t know, man. He’s not actually that bad, you know- he was pretty nice last week. I think the two of you just got off on the wrong foot.” 

“He’s awful!” Seungmin cries, flushing the toilet repeatedly so that he can yell as loud as he wants to. “He’s condescending and cruel and rich, and he called Sharon a rust bucket!” 

“That is an unforgivable sin,” Jisung admits. “You know, maybe just pretend to be really nice. Throw him off. Or treat him like he’s a stranger- it's better than making a fool out of yourself.” 

Seungmin kicks at the floor morosely. “Fine. But if I strangle him to death over the coffee table, you’ll know why.” 

Jisung laughs softly. “Stray strong, Minnie.” Seungmin disconnects the call and flushes the toilet one more time, watching the water swirl around in the porcelain bowl. _You’re an adult_ , he reminds himself, straightening up and adjusting his blazer lapels in the small mirror. _So act like an adult. Maybe he won’t be so bad._

It’s worse. He and Hyunjin lock eyes the moment he exits the bathroom, and Seungmin’s fists clench involuntarily at the knowing, evil look in his (beautiful) eyes. Woojin turns around and gives Seungmin a half –wave, completely oblivious to the storm brewing in the air between the two. 

“Hey,” Hyunjin says smoothly, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. “Long time no see.” Woojin brightens. “The two of you know each other? Seungmin, why didn’t you tell me?” Seungmin plops down into the seat next to Woojin. 

Right across from Hyunjin. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Seungmin grits out, doing his best to burn holes into Hyunjin’s forehead with his gaze. “It must have slipped my mind.” 

Hyunjin smirks. “I’m Chan’s second cousin. I’m staying with him for a little while.” 

“Oh, I see,” Woojin says, pulling a thick manila folder from his briefcase. “This should make things a little bit easier, then.” 

_What a coincidence_ , Hyunjin mouths at Seungmin, eyes glittering. _Is he wearing lip gloss? Or are his lips naturally that pink?_

 _I will fight you_ , Seungmin mouths back, his upper lip curling a little. Sharon hating coward. He freezes as Hyunjin abruptly flushes and looks away, the tips of his ears turning red. Seungmin leans back against the vinyl booth, a little taken aback. _What was that?_

That was a new expression he’s never seen on the taller man before. _It was a little bit cute_ , his heart thinks traitorously, rebelling against his brain. _His ears are cute._

 _They are most certainly not_ , Seungmin thinks, dumping an obscene amount of sugar into his coffee mug. “So,” Woojin is saying, “How do these ghost weddings work? Much like a regular one, I suppose?” 

Hyunjin nods, taking a small sip of his own drink. “Essentially, yes. A paper effigy takes the place of the deceased, dressed in their clothes. Our family does it a little bit differently- the ceremony is less rigid, but all the basics are there.” 

“Interesting,” Woojin muses. “Li Mei said that you were her grandnephew- are you close with her grandson?” Seungmin doesn’t miss the way that Hyunjin stiffens, doesn’t miss the raw array of emotion that flickers across his face before disappearing. “I used to be,” He says simply, reaching for the creamer, his hand trembling a little. “Not anymore.” 

Seungmin doesn’t like Hyunjin- loathes him, even- but he can read people and he can tell that there’s something hurting Hyunjin that he doesn’t want to talk about. So, when Woojin opens his mouth to ask another unintentionally intrusive and potentially hurtful question, Seungmin cuts him off. “What kind of flower arrangements was Li Mei thinking of?” He asks, voice carefully neutral, and something in his chest aches at the wildly grateful look Hyunjin shoots in his direction. 

“I have a list,” the taller man says, fumbling with a little list before sliding it over to Seungmin. “Here.” Seungmin takes it, giving himself a pat on the back for not flinching when his fingers brush the top of Hyunjin’s (unfairly pretty) fingers. 

After that, the rest of the meeting goes fairly well, and they manage to get a good chunk of planning done, with Hyunjin adding in extra details and opinions. He is helpful, as much as Seungmin hates to admit it, and he's almost pleasant to be around. (It’s all an act, probably to get Seungmin’s guard down so that Hyunjin can make him look like a Fool once again.)

They’ve wrapped everything up, and Seungmin is headed towards his car when Hyunjin catches up to him, slightly out of breath. “Uh. Hey.” Internally, Seungmin prepares for battle, but he manages to reply with a swift “Hello.” 

Hyunjin adjusts his Very Expensive looking beret, his cheeks tinged slightly pink from the cold. “I just wanted to say thanks. For earlier.” Before Seungmin can open his mouth to even try to respond, the taller man is already jogging away, his long brown coat flapping in the breeze behind him. Seungmin squints. _Is he going to the bus stop? I thought he was rich._

“Hey!” He shouts, and Hyunjin freezes, looking over his shoulder. “You want a ride home?” Hyunjin hesitates, his eyes wide. “’Kay,” He calls back, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat. “I’m not that far.” 

_What are you doing!!_ Seungmin’s common sense shrieks at him as he numbly unlocks the car with his clicker. _He called your car a rust bucket! He made you a fool in front of your friends! You are letting the enemy into your home!_

“Shut up,” Seungmin mutters under his breath, quietly enough so that Hyunjin won’t hear him. 

Hyunjin slides into the passenger seat, looking uncannily like a spooked rabbit. “Normally Chan would pick me up, but he’s working today,” Hyunjin mumbles, tightening his seat belt. “Sorry.” 

“No need to apologize,” Seungmin says quietly, turning slowly out of the lot. “Do you not have a license or something?” 

Hyunjin makes a non-committal noise. “Or something like that.” 

They drive in silence for the next several minutes, the awkward quiet only punctuated by Hyunjin’s terse “Turn here”’ or “This road”. It’s not the cocky, condescending Hyunjin Seungmin knows- it’s a paler shade, a quieter version. “Do you mind if I play some music?” Seungmin queries, completely forgetting that he has Britney Spears’ Greatest Hits already in the CD player. 

“Yeah,” Hyunjin says, eyes cast downwards. 

Seungmin hits **PLAY** and then freezes as Britney blasts out of the speakers, filling the car with glittery bass drops and slutty synth notes. _“You're toxic I'm slippin' under-With a taste of a poison paradise; I’m addicted to you- Don’t you know that you’re toxic?’_ Hyunjin jumps, jaw dropping and eyes wide as his head swivels to stare at Seungmin’s shocked profile. 

Seungmin laughs nervously, eyes directly on the road while his hand slaps the dash in a frantic attempt to stop the music. “Oh wow, I have no idea how that got in there- I don’t even know who this is- Jesus _fuck_ why won’t this turn off!” He hisses, cheeks burning. 

Hyunjin reaches over carefully, pushing Seungmin’s hand away from the dashboard. “It’s fine,” he says quietly, turning down the volume so the music isn’t reverberating around the car. “Britney Spears isn’t the worst taste in music you could have.” He giggles a little at that, and it takes all of Seungmin’s willpower to keep his eyes on the road ahead. _He’s capable of laughter?_

Hyunjin snorts, and with a flush of embarrassment Seungmin realizes that he’s just voiced his thoughts aloud. “Just because I work with dead bodies doesn’t mean I have the emotional range of one.” 

“My bad,” Seungmin squeaks, tapping his fingers nervously on the steering wheel. “I don’t have a filter sometimes.” 

From the corner of his eye, he watches Hyunjin grin crookedly. “I can see that.”

When he finally pulls up the drive to Hyunjin’s absolutely fucking Massive house, the atmosphere between the two of them is still a little awkward, but much less tense. He doesn’t miss the heavy exhale of relief coming from the passenger seat. Seungmin blinks, taking in the four storied, ivory columned house. “Holy shit.” 

Hyunjin dips his head. “It was my parent’s house, if that makes you feel better.” 

“Not really,” Seungmin says, thinking bitterly about his cramped little apartment with its leaky faucet and cat-hair covered cushions, “But thanks anyways.” Hyunjin snorts and unbuckles his seatbelt. “Thanks for the ride. Guess I’ll see you after Christmas for the venue set up?” 

Seungmin nods, his throat dry. “Yeah. Maybe sooner, if you decide to come out clubbing with Chan again.” Hyunjin smiles at him, his eyes crinkling up into half-crescents, and Seungmin’s heart skips a beat before he can even register it. “We’ll see. Thanks for the ride,” He says, closing the car door gently. “Sharon isn’t as bad as I thought she was.” 

Seungmin makes sure that Hyunjin enters his house before pulling out of the elaborately paved driveway and down the wooded road to the main highway. “Did you hear that?” He whispers to Sharon, patting the console. “I think you’re growing on him.” 

♡♡♡

Seungmin doesn’t see Hyunjin over the next few days leading up to Christmas, but he does learn some things about him from Chan. He and Chan have a Friend Thing they do sometimes, where they’ll just kind of sit in each other’s company and read (or get high, if you're Chan). Chan is that kind of friend: a person that Seungmin isn’t pressured to constantly entertain and talk to. It’s nice. 

Currently, the blonde is sitting on his ratty couch, patting Seungmin’s cat (Knuckles, after the echidna) with one hand and smoking a joint with the other. 

“I really shouldn’t be saying this,” Chan admits, blowing a smoke ring out the open window, “But I think you have a right to know why he’s so standoffish.” Seungmin wrinkles his nose at the smell, but flips another page in his romance novel, allowing Chan to continue. 

“You’re working on the ghost wedding for Great-aunt Mei with him, yeah?” Seungmin nods, his eyes not really taking in any of the words on the page. “Well, aside from her and I, the rest of the family doesn’t really talk to him.” Chan takes a deep breath. “He was driving in the accident that killed Junghae’s- my other cousin’s- fiancé. His name was Daehyun.” Chan lets out a shaky breath. 

Seungmin doesn’t even bother to pretend to be reading the book anymore.

“It wasn’t Hyunjin’s fault- a drunk driver hit them head on at an intersection and Hyunjin managed to get out of it with a few stitches and a concussion, but Daehyun-,” Chan swallows thickly, staring down at Knuckles as the cat kneads at his ripped jeans. “-Daehyun died on the way to the hospital.” 

“Christ,” Seungmin breathes softly, tears pricking at the backs of his eyes. “And I almost hit him with my car. And then I was an asshole about it.” Chan shakes his head. “It’s not about you. Hyunjin is just a little. Fucked up over it. It’s hard to tell because- because he’s never been very good at sharing how he feels with other people; you know? He never asks for anything and driving him around and having him stay at my place is the least I can do-,” Chan lets out a little sob and stumps out his joint. “His parents passed away a few years ago and nobody else in the family besides Mei and I will talk to him and he’s just. Really goddamn lonely.

Really lonely,” Chan repeats, his nose running a little. Seungmin sniffles and moves over to wrap an arm around Chan’s shoulders. 

He feels awful. He misjudged Hyunjin, insulted him, and then treated him like shit over something petty. He remembers then his aunt, how she had been more alcohol than human, how she had wasted her life away, lonely and rotting from the inside out. Seungmin’s father had cried quietly at the news of her liver failure, and Seungmin had cried as well- not just for his aunt, but for his father and his grandmother, who would have to carry the pain of outliving somebody who should have grown old with them. 

_Hyunjin is strong_ , Seungmin thinks, stroking Chan’s curls, _and so is Chan._

Grief is a strange, jagged thing. It cuts people differently; some wrap it up in a box and push it away while others pour it out into the open. Some never address it, and it hardens them- calcifies the grief into a shell for them to curl up inside and hide in. 

“Please don’t treat Hyunjin differently,” Chan hiccups, eyes red from weed and tears. “He won’t want that. I shouldn’t have told you. I just. Really want you to like him. The two of you are just so alike.” 

_I think we might be_ , Seungmin thinks to himself. _Just two sides of the same coin._ “I won’t, I promise.” Seungmin smooths Chan’s bangs away from his forehead. “I think he’s really strong.” 

Chan sniffles and gives a watery grin as Knuckles clambers up his chest to lick the tears off the tip of his nose. “He is. He’s my favorite cousin.” Seungmin hums gently, and Chan leans against Seungmin’s chest, eventually dozing off. 

Later, when Seungmin asks for Hyunjin’s number, Chan gives him a smile so wide and so bright that it lights up even the darkest corners of his tiny apartment. “Here,” Chan says, pressing **SAVE** on the new contact labeled ‘ **HYUNJIN** ’ before handing Seungmin’s phone back to him. “What are you thinking of doing?” 

Seungmin looks down at the shiny new contact number. “I was thinking of inviting him to our christmas party.” 

Chans smiles again. “I think he’d like that.”

“Yeah,” Seungmin says thoughtfully, thumb hovering over the **TEXT** function. “I think I would, too.” 

♡♡♡

YOU  
**hey**  
**you busy on the 25th?**

HYUNJIN  
**???**  
**Who is this?**

YOU  
**seungmin**  
**chan gave me your number?**  
**i’m having a christmas party**

HYUNJIN  
...  
**I don’t know what Chan told you, but I’m not a charity case.**  
**If that’s what this is.**

YOU  
**no!!  
** **i just think ur like... adequately Not Awful.**  
**so if u want**  
**everyone will be there**

**HYUNJIN  
** **Ha ha.**  
**Fine. Do I need to bring anything?**

**YOU  
** **nope**  
**just ur cheerful self**

**HYUNJIN  
**You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you?** **

**♡♡♡**

“I really don’t understand why you suddenly care so much about how clean your apartment is,” Jeongin muses, shoving a piece of turkey into his mouth. Seungmin slaps his hand away. 

“Do not touch the bird! Wait until dinner! And I have always prided myself in keeping my living space clean.” 

Jisung snickers from the living room, where he and Felix are stringing popcorn onto fishing wire to put on the tree. “That’s cause you invited Hyunjin and you wanna flex on him.” 

( “Ohhh,” Jeongin says knowingly, sneaking anther piece of turkey into his mouth.) 

Seungmin aggressively sautés some carrots and mushrooms, fingers gripping the handle of the pan tightly. “I do not. And I invited Hyunjin as a gesture of peace. I’m too old to be fighting with people.” 

“Wow, our little Seungminnie has grown,” Changbin fake cries, leaning on Minho’s shoulder for support. “What a big boy,” Chan agrees, shooting Seungmin a sly, knowing look. Seungmin sticks his tongue out at the blonde. _Traitor_. Woojin and Hyunjin are both a little late, but Seungmin’s not complaining- he still has to dole out the cranberry sauce and force the rest of the guys to set the table. 

As if on cue, the doorbell rings, and Seungmin freezes. A mushroom falls from the pan onto the stovetop with a weak sizzling sound. “I’ll get the door,” Minho calls, throwing a final piece of popcorn at Felix before trotting out to the front hall. 

Jeongin pats Seungmin’s shoulder. “You got this, bud. Just take the apron off, maybe.” 

Seungmin looks down. “Why? What’s wrong with this? It works perfectly fine.” Jisung had bought it for him last Christmas as a gag joke- it’s pastel pink and covered in little kittens and frilly bows- but the joke is really on Jisung, because it’s a _great_ apron. 

“Hi.” 

Jeongin screams quietly into his hands. Minho pulls Hyunjin into the living room, and Seungmin gawks at how casually the other man is dressed- in blue jeans and a long sleeved wool sweater. 

_Pretty_ , Seungmin thinks. He curses aloud as the carrots begin to smoke. 

“Need some help with that?” Seungmin looks up, startled. “Woojin! I didn’t know you were here, too.” His brother yawns, his usually perfectly coiffed hair rumpled and fluffy. “Yeah. Hyunjin and I ran into each other on the way here.” He grabs the pan from Seungmin and kicks him in the butt with a socked foot. 

“Go entertain your guests. I can finish this.” Seungmin shoots him a grateful look before sliding across the kitchen floor, stumbling a little into the living room. 

Everyone pauses and looks over at him. Much to Seungmin’s surprise, Hyunjin doesn’t sneer at him. “Nice apron,” He says sincerely, giving Seungmin a small smile. Seungmin bristles, ready to defend his choice of kitchenwear- but no, it seems as though Hyunjin is actually being genuine. 

“Thanks,” He replies calmly, untying the strings of the apron and draping it over the back of the couch. 

“What the fuck?” Felix whispers to Jeongin. Jeongin just shrugs, confused. The chatter starts up again, and as the minutes tick by, Seungmin watches Hyunjin unwind bit by bit, his hands resting comfortably in his lap. Minho says something stupid and it makes Hyunjin laugh, really laugh, his smile taking up his whole face, and he’s so effortlessly beautiful that it makes Seungmin’s chest hum with something warm. 

He’s been thinking these past few days; thinking long and hard about what he wants from life and where he wants to be in the future. He wants to be happy, definitely, and he also wants to be with someone. Truth be told, he’s lonely. Seungmin has spent the last three years planning out other people’s weddings- and however stupid it may sound, he wants to plan his own someday. 

_Problem is_ , Seungmin thinks, watching Hyunjin talk excitedly about the new BTS album, _I always fall for people who are ridiculously out of my league._

Woojin screams from the kitchen, then, and Seungmin is over there in four point five seconds, snickering at the mess his brother has made of the cranberry sauce. “I’ll take it from here,” Seungmin sniggers, swatting Woojin on the shoulder. “You get everyone settled at the table.” 

He manages to salvage the cranberry sauce ( he doesn’t have a culinary degree for nothing ) and he brings it out to where nine full grown men have managed to cram themselves around a table built for four. 

“Seungmin has a cooking degree,” Woojin explains to a very stunned Hyunjin. “That’s why everything tastes so good.” Seungmin ducks his head, bashful, and yelps when Changbin pegs him right in the forehead with a whole wheat bun. “Sit down and eat!” And so he does. He doesn’t talk much, content to just observe the warm companionship between the people he’s come to think of as his family. 

Towards the end of dinner he notices that Hyunjin has grown quieter than usual, his smile a little forced. 

When Hyunjin asks Jisung where the bathroom is and disappears for longer than ten minutes, Seungmin chucks his apron at Jeongin and follow after him. He finds Hyunjin sitting against the bathroom wall, cradling a lapful of cat. 

“Hey,” Seungmin says, sitting down on the floor next to Hyunjin, making sure to give him some space. “You found my bathroom. And Knuckles.” Hyunjin lets out a wet laugh, brushing his fingers in the soft belly of the cat. “What kind of name is Knuckles?” 

“I had a really big Sonic phase a while back,” Seungmin explains, poking at Knuckles’ toe beans. “I think it fits, mostly. She’s a stray- she just followed me home one day and I didn’t have the heart to say no.” Hyunjin makes a small noise, and it’s then that Seungmin realizes Hyunjin is quietly crying, big fat teardrops running down the slope of his nose. “Hyunjin?” He ventures, cautiously placing a hand on Hyunjin’s knee. “Are you okay?” 

“No,” Hyunjin chokes out, “I’m not.” And he breaks down into ugly, embarrassed sobs, doing his best to cover his face with his hands. Knuckles crawls out of his lap and sits down on bathmat, tail flicking back and forth. Seungmin hesitates. “Is there... Is there anything I can do?” He wants to do something, anything, but he feels like he’s walking a very fine line and he doesn’t want to cross it. 

“I don’t want your pity,” Hyunjin rasps through gritted teeth, “I know that Chan told you. I’m not a project.” 

Seungmin stiffens, a little stung. “I don’t pity you,” He whispers, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie. “I told Chan before and I’ll tell you now: I think you’re strong.” And he does. He thinks that Hyunjin is the strongest, bravest, and maybe even the loveliest person he’s ever seen. 

Hyunjin wipes his nose with the back of his hand. “I’m just so fucking tired. I’m so tired of feeling like this.” He’s an ugly crier- his eyes are puffy and there’s snot and tears all over his face, and Seungmin knows it’s neither the time nor the place to think such things but he can’t help but be a little bit in love. It’s messy. 

Seungmin holds his breath. “Like you’re stuck in the same space and you can’t move on?” 

Hyunjin shudders and closes his eyes. “Yeah.” And then somehow, Seungmin is moving. Before he can process what he’s doing, he’s pulling Hyunjin against his chest and hugging him tightly enough to hear the hummingbird tempo of his heart. “It’s okay,” Seungmin breathes, carding a trembling hand through Hyunjin’s glossy black hair. “You’re going to be okay. _It’s going to be okay_.” 

Hyunjin lets out a strangled little noise and fists his hands in the back of Seungmin’s hoodie, and he cries. He cries for a really long time, and Seungmin rocks him back and forth on the cool tile of his bathroom, patting his back and letting him know that _it’s okay_. Sometimes, people need to hear somebody tell them that they’re going to be fine, even if it’s a lie. 

Eventually, Hyunjin sits up, his gaze fixed on the bathroom floor. “Sorry,” He mumbles, and Seungmin bites back the urge to cry himself. He gives Hyunjin’s shoulder a little shake. “Hey. Don’t apologize. There’s nothing to be sorry for.” Hyunjin nods, fingers reaching up to touch where Seungmin’s hand is resting on his shoulder. 

“Thank you,” Hyunjin murmurs. “This probably wasn’t how you imagined your Christmas turning out.” 

“My entire life is nothing like I imagined it would be,” Seungmin confesses, giving Hyunjin’s hand a little squeeze. “But I’m okay with that.” 

Hyunjin looks up, his eyelashes long and wet, his expression open. “Why are you so nice to me?” 

_Because you’re a beautiful person and I’m falling a little bit in love with you,_ Seungmin thinks hopelessly. “Because you’re a good person,” He says instead. “Because you deserve more kindness than what you’ve been dealt.” 

Hyunjin looks at him then, really looks at him- like he’s a cluster of stars, all stuck in a human body. “You can’t say things like that,” Hyunjin whispers, leaning in towards Seungmin, eyes glossy, “Because it might make me fall in love with you.” And then he’s pressing his mouth to Seungmin’s, warm and wet and salty from the tears still lingering on Hyunjin’s cheeks. 

Seungmin melts for a long moment, existing only in the space between the brush of Hyunjin’s hands and Hyunjin’s lips, the taste of the sea in his mouth and the smell of chocolate in the air around them. _No_ , the coherent part of Seungmin cries, _Not now. Not when he’s sad. Not like this._

Gently, he pushes Hyunjin away. “No,” Seungmin pants, hands shaking. “You can’t.” Hyunjin stills, shame blooming across his face. 

“I’m sorry,” Hyunjin stammers, standing up on wobbly legs. “I thought you wanted- I’m sorry. I’ll leave.” He bolts out of the bathroom, leaving Seungmin alone with Knuckles, who merely butts her head against his leg before leaving as well. 

“Fuck,” Seungmin says quietly, staring down at his shoes. “ _Fuck_!” He says, louder this time, before standing up. He meets Minho in the hallway. The brunette trots over to him, expression worried. “Seungmin, Hyunjin just left, do you know what- oh.” 

Minho takes in Seungmin’s crumpled, wide expression. “What happened, kiddo?” Seungmin starts to cry then, and Minho pulls him into a rough embrace, rocking him back and forth. “I think I fucked up,” Seungmin cries, every fibre of his being longing to run out into the dark after Hyunjin. “I think I ruined the only good chance I had at at being happy, Minho! Fuck!” 

(It’s not the best Christmas Seungmin’s ever had.) 

♡♡♡ 

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” Woojin straightens his tie for him. “We have enough staff to cover for you. You can go home.” Seungmin takes a deep breath, looking at his reflection in the mirror. “No. I can do this. It’s fine.” 

January 1st: New Year’s Day, the day of the ghost wedding, and the first time that Seungmin will see Hyunjin since the Christmas debacle from a week ago. _I need to explain myself_ , Seungmin thinks, wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers. _I need to fix this_. 

He’s never been good at vocalizing his feelings, never been good at putting how he feels out there- but Hyunjin’s the same way. If one of them doesn’t step up, neither of them will. 

Woojin claps him on the shoulder. “I’m proud of you, little bro. You go get your man. And make sure the wedding goes smoothly.” He adds. Seungmin rolls his eyes. “Yes, sir.” 

He pulls on his overcoat as he steps outside, careful to give the guests a wide berth. The wedding venue this time around is a little smaller than usual, and it’s also partially outdoors- a risky gamble for January, but it’s worked this time. Flowers are everywhere- hanging from the ceiling, scattered on the tables, and creeping up the pillars. It’s ethereal, really. 

For the first few hours, he throws himself into work, smoothing over ruffled feathers and checking in on all the stations, making sure that he doesn’t have the time to search the ballroom for Hyunjin. _He might not even show up_ , Seungmin realizes as he’s waving a food truck through the service gate. _Maybe I won’t see him again_. His stomach sinks at that idea, and he vows to go search for Hyunjin after the ceremony. 

Li Mei pulls him aside just before the service starts, her eyes warm and a little teary. “Thank you for putting this together, Mr. Kim. My Junghae is so grateful, and I imagine that Daehyun is as well.” She presses a papery kiss to Seungmin’s cheek, and Seungmin catches the scent of jasmine and oak before she pulls away. “I need to go now- the service is about to start.” 

“Mrs. Mei,” Seungmin says, and the elderly woman turns around, eyebrow raised. “Do you know if Hyunjin is coming?” Li Mei tilts her head. “Did you not hear? Junghae invited him earlier this week. Took that silly boy long enough to invite his favorite cousin.” 

“Oh,” Seungmin gasps, a little twinge of happiness for the other man welling up in his chest, “I’m so happy to hear that.” 

Li Mei shoots him a knowing look. “Go tell him that yourself, Mr. Kim. You boys are far too young to be dancing around each other like this.” With that, she spins on her heel, leaving Seungmin grinning like a dumbstruck fool. 

He doesn’t get to see the full ceremony, but he pops his head in during the end to see everyone dancing and celebrating. At the center of the room is a young, handsome man sitting next to a paper effigy. _That must be Junghae._ He looks sad and a little tired, but the tears in his eyes and the smile on his face is are happy. Seungmin rubs a palm over the warm ache in his chest and moves on. 

In the end, it’s not Seungmin who finds Hyunjin, but Hyunjin who finds Seungmin. Seungmin is smoking a cigarette in a gazebo that is filled with lilies and peonies and little floating lights. He takes one puff of the cigarette before he just places it on the railing and leaves it there. 

These are the things he knows for sure-one: that he hit Hwang Hyunjin with his car, two: that his life is grey and rainy and more than a little lonely, and three: that Hwang Hyunjin makes his loneliness disappear. 

“I didn’t know you smoked,” Hyunjin says. Seungmin jumps a little, fingers twitching on the railing. “I used to a lot,” He replies honestly, the hairs on the nape of his neck stiffening, “But I don’t really anymore. 

Hyunjin leans on the railing next to Seungmin. He’s wearing an Expensive looking black suit, and his hair is curled. There’s glitter on his eyelids, and Seungmin thinks he looks like a million bucks- _but then again, he always looks like a million bucks_. 

“Hyunjin,” He starts, “The other night-,” 

“That was on me,” Hyunjin says softly, picking up a lily and rubbing the white petals. “I wasn’t in the right state of mind and I used you. I’m sorry. I’m kind of a mess.” Seungmin swallows. “It’s okay. I’m not mad.” 

Hyunjin laughs softly, his earrings reflecting the dim gold light. “I know. That’s the problem: you’re entirely too kind.” 

“I’m not!” Seungmin says, voice raised a little, and Hyunjin looks over at him, startled. “I’m not,” He states, quieter this time. “I’m obnoxious and petty and entirely too selfish. I always second guess myself and I go out of my way to avoid talking to people if I’m able to.” He stubs out the cigarette, wincing a little as his thumb brushes the hot ash. “I’m a mess, too. So what? We all are. You are a _beautiful_ mess, Hyunjin; you’re emotionally constipated and ethereal and entirely alive and I might be a little bit In Love with you.” 

He's never spoken so honestly before. It's scary. It's so, _so_ scary. 

“Oh,” Hyunjin says. 

“Oh.” Seungmin confirms, and Hyunjin lets out a disbelieving little laugh. “You’re in _love_ with me?” 

Seungmin nods. “I’m ninety-eight percent certain.” 

“That’s good enough for me,” Hyunjin murmurs, and then he grabs Seungmin by the tie and pulls him in for a searing kiss, right there under the stars and in front of all the lilies. Hyunjin is a good kisser- Seungmin isn’t surprised. He’s beginning to think Hyunjin is good at most everything. He bites at Hyunjin’s lower lip, smiling at the little whine he gets in return. Hyunjin tastes like strawberries and chocolate and very faintly of wine, and he presses himself flush up against the taller man to get a better taste. 

“Oh my god,” Hyunjin gasps, leaning against the gazebo railing for support as Seungmin mouths at the pulse point on his neck. “Why are you so good at kissing?” 

“I practiced a lot,” Seungmin hums, nipping at the underside of Hyunjin’s jaw. “You’re not too shabby yourself, you know.” Hyunjin grabs his face with both hands and pulls him up for a sloppy, messy kiss, the kind with far too much passion and teeth, but Seungmin smiles into it anyways because it’s _Hyunjin._

“I really like you,” Hyunjin says between kisses. “I like you more than I probably should.” Seungmin brushes his lips over the slope of Hyunjin’s nose, the plane of his cheekbones, the wide bow of his lips. 

“What a coincidence,” Seungmin murmurs. “I feel the same way.” 

“Good,” Hyunjin breathes, and then they’re kissing again, long and slow and soft. 

There’s still things to talk about, still things to sort out, but Seungmin isn’t worried about it anymore. There’s Hyunjin, and then there’s Seungmin: two sides of the same coin. Everything still isn’t entirely Okay, but with Hyunjin in his arms, he thinks it’s safe to say that it’s pretty damn Good. 


End file.
